Chapter Seventy-Eight: The Female Technician

The world is unpredictable; nothing remains constant, and thus no one can truly foresee everything. As many people often repeat, life is full of disappointments—eight out of ten times, things do not go as one wishes. The unknown is the natural state of life; sometimes it brings surprises, sometimes shocks.

Zhang Xiaoman had never expected that the person Yang Qingqing was dating was not Dr. Wang. Following the trail of the man in the designer suit, he discovered that Zhu Dachang had actually come face-to-face with that man, right in a supermarket not far from the auto repair shed. Just at that moment, Song Lao’er and Song Yicheng called, informing him that Zhu Dachang and Hou San had already arrived safely in Jiangnan—a pleasant surprise, indeed.

From the stack of photos handed out by the receptionist, Hou San selected a four-star masseur, his mind echoing the receptionist’s mention of “special services.” Impatiently, he dragged Zhu Dachang past the bathing area and went straight into his own massage suite, lying down and daydreaming while waiting for the masseur to arrive. Yet when the masseur spoke her first words, Hou San was terrified as never before.

Such is life: the higher the expectation, the deeper the disappointment.

Zhu Dachang, holding a pig’s trotter from the complimentary dining area, gnawed it clean in a few bites, wiped the grease from his mouth, poked a straw into a Wahaha drink, and took a sip. “San-ge, the pig’s trotters here aren’t great—too much sugar. By the way, I noticed most people bathe before their massage. Did we do this in the wrong order?”

“It’s all the same. Clean and hygienic, whether you wash after or before,” Hou San replied, lying on the massage table with a sly smile. “I’ll go first and show you how it’s done. If you really feel embarrassed, don’t force yourself. Some like white steamed buns, some like pig’s trotters—each to their own.”

Zhu Dachang nodded, half understanding, muttering, “If you have pig’s trotters, who’d want a bun?”

“I love big white steamed buns—white, big, and soft…” Hou San swallowed, about to continue when there was a knock at the door. His eyes lit up; he cleared his throat and called out boldly, “Come in!”

A young woman in a pink skirt entered, her gaze sultry as she spoke to Hou San, “Sorry to keep you gentlemen waiting…”

Hou San stared at her graceful figure, feeling a flush of heat, “No problem, good things are worth the wait…” He hurriedly undressed. “Come on, let’s start with me. Make it as intense as you can—I’m not bragging, but I’m known for my stamina around here. I last longer than chewing gum, outrageously so.”

The young woman tossed her hair, “You’re funny, sir. Lots of guests say they’re strong, but some can’t last even a few minutes. Too much endurance isn’t always good, either—it can mean there’s a problem.”

Hou San sneered, “Me, with a problem? Don’t joke. I’ve secretly trained for years—stretching and other exercises. Some men last too long because they’re depleted, but I’m different. Enough talk; you’ll see how tough I am as soon as you start. Come, let’s have three hundred rounds!”

The young woman pursed her lips and giggled, “You might be mistaken, sir. The masseur who’ll serve you is someone else—I’m just here to greet you first. Hearing you say you’re tough, I’m relieved. My sister just returned from Thailand; she’s a bit heavy-handed,” she clapped her hands, “Come in, don’t keep the gentleman waiting.”

A long-haired woman with a sturdy build entered, head lowered. She bowed slightly to Hou San and Zhu Dachang, then spoke in a deep, gravelly voice, “Hello, gentlemen! Pleased to meet you—please look after me.”

Hou San’s skin prickled with goosebumps as he stared at the leg hair poking through her fishnet stockings. His eye twitched; he turned to the young woman and stammered, “You… you said she’s your sister?”

“Yes,” the young woman replied, noticing Hou San’s gaze and looking a bit embarrassed. “Last month, she was my brother—now she’s my sister. Some things haven’t fully changed yet, but her skills are top-notch. Though she’s heavy-handed, you’ll feel reborn and relaxed after her massage. Many guests become regulars after one session. She’s the only four-star masseur at the 199 price point—you really have an eye for quality!”

Hou San recalled what the receptionist had said and finally understood. His face went slack. “Can I switch? What’s your rate? Maybe you, as the older sister, could help out and do the job instead…”

“What brother? I’m a woman!” The long-haired woman lifted her chest, two large steamed buns, and barked, “My sister is a seasoned masseur at 699—you think you can pay 199 and get her service? Dream on!”

Hou San hurried to add, “I can pay more! You haven’t started yet, and I haven’t tipped—just let your sister do it, we’re all family…”

“Sit still!” The long-haired woman plopped down beside Hou San’s massage table, her hands clamping his shoulders like iron. “You want to skip out when you finally get a session? No way! You’re not getting off this bed until your hour is up!”

Zhu Dachang, seeing Hou San bullied, put on a fierce face and pointed at the long-haired woman, barking, “Let go of my San-ge, or else I’ll show you some real trouble!”

The young woman approached Zhu Dachang, her delicate hand resting on his, “Don’t be anxious, chubby brother. Though your San-ge isn’t happy now, after my sister’s massage, he’ll never want her to leave. Two people need time to get used to each other.”

Zhu Dachang lowered his arm, thinking seriously. The young woman’s words made sense; it was like him and Cuihua at the start—she didn’t like him, but affection grew over time, and now she always wants him home.

Hou San was about to say something to Zhu Dachang when a powerful force struck his back, making him grimace and swallow his words.

“You see?” the young woman said to Zhu Dachang, pointing at Hou San with a smile. “He’s already enjoying it…” She took his hand. “If you’re bored here, come have a snack and chat with me outside, how about it?”

Zhu Dachang glanced at Hou San, whose eyes were squeezed shut, smacked his lips, and let the young woman lead him out. “Her skills are good—his expression is just like mine when I’m eating crunchy snacks. Pure enjoyment!”

Hou San forced his eyes open a crack, watching in despair as Zhu Dachang and the young woman left the suite. The door closed, and all he could do was groan, “Ah… ah…”

Once Zhu Dachang and the young woman departed, two masked men in staff uniforms emerged from a nearby suite, sneaking over to Hou San’s door. They pressed their ears—one high, one low—against the door, holding their breath to listen.

“Brother, I’m sorry—put your gun away, it’s terrifying…”

“Weren’t you cocky just now? You climbed right on top! I said I don’t like being passive, but you wouldn’t listen, would you?”

“Brother, it was my fault, I was too rough. I promise I’ll be gentle next time. Calm down, don’t let the gun go off accidentally…”

“You still want another go? I told you, I don’t need it, don’t you understand?”

“Brother, calm down! Don’t poke my chest with your gun anymore—it’s silicone, not very sturdy, could burst at any moment…”

“Now you’re backing down? Weren’t you fierce before—complaining 199 was too little, wanting a tip hike. Should I raise it?”

“Not raising, not raising.”

“So you look down on me, huh? Didn’t you say big bosses tip you five or six thousand?”

“Then maybe a little more…”

“With those two lumps of silicone, I don’t even want to pay 199. You’re scamming customers, and you want a higher tip?”

“Brother, you’ve got me confused… Do as you please, I don’t mind if you don’t tip, just let me go. Don’t poke me anymore, the skin’s almost breaking…”

“Animal!” The man eavesdropping above whispered, “No tip after service—it’s like rape!”

The man listening below clenched his fist, “More than animal… it’s beastly! Lao’er, did you hear? The masseur’s voice is male, and with silicone in front, it means he went to Thailand. All for a bit of money—it’s tough enough… and that bastard won’t even spare a ladyboy!”

“Cheng-ge, what do we do? We can’t just stand by,” Song Lao’er exhaled. “While the fat guy’s away, maybe we should rush in…”

Song Yicheng waved his hand, “Don’t be rash. The two of us may not be able to subdue that bastard. If we mess up Zhang Xiaoman’s instructions, we’re in trouble—my wife’s about to give birth…”

“But we can’t pretend nothing’s happening. Listen…” Song Lao’er’s face was grim. “That bastard’s making them kneel and open their mouth. Disgusting—I can’t take it…”

With that, Song Lao’er wrenched open the door and charged in, full of fury.

Gritting his teeth, Song Yicheng followed.

Hou San, hearing the commotion, swiftly hid his homemade gun in his trouser leg. He glanced at the masseur, now unconscious on the floor, and muttered, “Zhu Dachang’s expired knockout powder really works…” He crumpled the paper that held the powder and tossed it in the trash, dusted off his hands, and turned to the two men in staff uniforms who had barged in, speaking calmly, “You’re just in time. This masseur fell asleep after only a few minutes. I won’t be tipping, and the 288 I paid earlier should be refunded!”